Raising Hel
by Krimsha
Summary: Written for Sabriel Week 2013. Gabriel Garrison, local celebrity and heir to Host Technology, asks lawyer Sam Winchester to handle his divorce. This could be the case that makes Sam a legal partner, so he accepts without hesitation. Standard RomCom shenanigans result.
1. Destiny's Door

Sam had gone into law because he wanted to help people. And when Sam Winchester got an idea in his head, nothing short of a nuclear blast could change his mind. He'd spent years of his life studying so he could graduate top of his class from Stanford, which was hardly an easy task. After the bar exam, he'd had top firms calling _him _for interviews. Of course, these firms were enormous and handled high-profile cases from high-profile clients.

But Sam wanted to be in the courtroom, not going over indiscriminate details in a cubicle in hopes that, someday, he might be the one telling the newly hired graduates what to do.

So he'd turned down their offers and instead entered a firm in Chicago so he could work with civilian cases. The next few years had been spent on grunt work and trying to pay off student loans, which had become necessary despite his full scholarship. As it turned out, it hadn't quite covered his schooling.

Two years pass and things are starting to look up. The loan is paid (Sam knew how to live cheaply) and he's starting to get cases of his own, under observation of course. Within the next few years, he should be partner. He can move out of his tiny apartment, maybe buy his own house.

And so it was that, on the eighth of September, Gabriel Garrison strode into Sam's office, plopped himself in a chair, and said "I want a divorce. We have three children, one of whom is a minor and I need full custody."

Never let it be said that career gifts didn't waltz through your door.


	2. Iktsuarpok

He should not be here.

He should not be waiting for him to show.

And he sure as hell should not be looking over his shoulder every few minutes.

He was absolutely certain this was all kinds of unprofessional.

The divorce had been final for a month. And, all things considered, that should've been the end of their relationship. The last belongings had been distributed. Angie had moved out. The last signature had been signed. And yet, when Sam got the dinner invitation ("I want to thank you for all you did.") he'd said yes.

They'd agreed to meet at a run of the mill restaurant half an hour ago and Sam was starting to get edgy. Was this supposed to be some elaborate prank? But why go through the trouble. Sam had been strictly professional, so there wasn't a chance his tiny crush had been noticed. And dammit, he was nearly twenty-eight; he shouldn't have "crushes".

"Hey, I am so sorry for being this late."

Sam looked up from the tablecloth, frowning. "You said eight thirty?"

Gabriel grinned sheepishly. "Um, yeah, I got held up at the office. There was this electrical problem and Michael had already left and someone needed to be there."

"Fire? Was anyone hurt?"

Gabriel blinked, surprised. "Actually, no. But we've got to replace some equipment. Copiers and the like. I should've called."

Sam grinned. "Seriously, it's okay. I was kind of thinking you'd set me up."

"Getting nervous, huh?"

Sam decided to eat the breadstick instead of replying. Because there was no way he could reply to that without putting his foot in his mouth.

"So you never asked the host if I'd shown up?"

Dammit.


	3. Domesticity

As it turns out, the thank you dinner was a date. One date turned into four and the next thing Sam knew, he was sleeping at Gabriel's half the week. His toothbrush was on the bathroom counter and he had his own drawer.

But being domestic wasn't exactly something Sam was used to. He'd gone into this knowing Gabriel had children. The older two were college students, but, as they attended the local university, they spent their weekends at home. The youngest was fifteen and, well, she had to get ready for school at the same time Sam got ready for work.

So they attempted to comingle in the morning.

The routine they'd developed was simple. Sam would make breakfast for three (instead of one), Helena would stumble into the kitchen (still sleep delirious, but fully clothed) and eat her portion, then Sam would drop her off at school.

On this particular morning, Sam woke up to the sound of the shower running. Twenty minutes later he was frying eggs. What he didn't expect was being hugged or for Helena to lean herself against him and go limp. Somehow he managed to catch her and drag her onto a stool.

"Mornin', Sam," she groaned.

Sam grinned and pushed a plate in front of her.

"Yeah, mornin' Sam," Gabriel said. "Watcha ma-"

He was cut off by Helena going face down in her breakfast. He sighed and nudged her gently.

"How late were you up last night?"

He was answered by another groan.

"Hel."

She somehow managed to pull her face out of her eggs. There was some yolk in her eyebrow. "Three, I think."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, Sam placed an energy drink in front of her. She took one drink and pulled a face.

"This tastes like butt."

"Of course it tastes like butt. It's got a butt-load of caffeine in it. Now drink."

By the time she'd finished, they were late. Well, Sam and Hel were late. Gabriel could go into work anytime he wanted.

After rushed goodbyes and coaxing the car through the early-morning traffic, Sam pulled into the school parking lot.

"Uh, have a nice day."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing me."

"Hey, hold on."

"Hmm…" She was already out of the car.

"You've still got egg on you."

She dove back onto the passenger seat. "GettitGettitGettitGettitGettit."

"Okay, okay, hold still."

"You got it?"

"Yeah, got it."

"Thanks Sam. Bye Sam."

"Bye Hel."

He pulled into the firm later than he would have liked, but the chocolate on his desk was worth it. And, even though he would've preferred something a little healthier, Sam found himself grinning.


	4. Fen

**This is Chapter 5. Day 4 was porn day, so it can be found on my Archive Of Our Own account. I'm under the same pen name there. **

Sam wasn't sure how he'd picked up grocery shopping. One morning he'd realized they were out of milk; that afternoon, he'd stopped by the store and bought a gallon. And that led to a quick detour to the produce section, because their house was always low on fruit and they needed something to counteract the sheer volume of sweets they inhaled on a daily basis. He suspected their dentist was a miracle, because how else could the lack of cavities be explained?

The next time, Hel had to make cookies for school. And, as chocolate chips had no life span in their house, she needed to go to the grocery store. Gabriel was tied up at the office and she disliked shopping by herself (read: she didn't have any money).

"Hey, Sam."

"Huh? Yeah?"

"I need to go to the store."

"Uh…. You can go."

"You wanna come?"

He'd just spent a grueling day in court. "Why don't you go?"

"Don't wanna go by myself."

"Aren't Jon and Caleb here?"

"Yeah."

"They won't take you?"

"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam."

Half an hour later, they were walking out of the grocery store when Hel saw them: Cute, fluffy, black and white Border Collie-type puppies.

And Sam could never resist a dog so they went home with cookie ingredients, five pounds of candy, and a squirming pup.

"Jon! Caleb!"

As it turns out, Gabriel had managed to get home.

"You are such a pushover."

"Am not."

Jon pushed himself between them. "Please let us keep him Dad. please please please pleaaaaaaaaase."

Gabriel heaved an overdramatic sigh.

"What are we going to call him?"

"Shadow!"

"No, Shep. He's definitely a Shep!"

"Riot?"

"Oreo?"

Caleb rolled his eyes and scooped the small dog into his arms, cuddling it to his chest. "Fen. His name is Fen."

Hel scoffed. "Who said you get to name him? I'm the one who found him. I should be the one with naming privileges."

"Fen, short for Fenris."

"You want to name our dog after the one whose escape means the end of the world?"

"It's no weirder than being Helena."

"Helena's a city in Montana, moron."

"At least "Fen" doesn't mean "eternal damnation.""

The phone cut through their argument. It was passed to Gabriel. Jon was doing his best to pry the still un-named dog out of his brother's grip. Sam fidgeted nervously. Gabriel's face became calm, what Hel referred to as "business face."

"Yes, I understand. Thanks for letting me know."

The phone was returned to its cradle.

"Luke is dead."

Caleb nearly dropped the dog. Jon managed to catch him. Hel ran from the room. Gabriel stumbled, catching himself on the kitchen counter.

The ride to the hospital was deafeningly silent. Sam had been pushed behind the wheel of the SUV; Gabriel hadn't trusted himself to drive. In the backseat, Hel nearly climbed into Jon's lap. Caleb scooted himself close.

The rest of the night was a blur. Sam barely remembered saying "hello" to Michael. A few other Garrison siblings drifted in, some he knew better than others.

And, despite being there for two hours, Gabriel didn't acknowledge Sam until he pulled him around a corner. Quick kiss. "Take the kids home." And then he was gone again. The three followed him without question.

Their father arrived six hours later. "Let's name him Fen."


	5. Red Nightmares

Sam had always hated funerals. The solemn feeling was crushing, everyone was crying, and he would be in a funk for the next week, minimum. And that was when he only went for moral support. As a griever, Sam was one of those who undergo complete personality changes. Generally happy disposition turned sour, full on depression would ensue, and (in some cases) near-suicidal tendencies.

So he didn't taken funerals lightly.

The mood in the Garrison house was stifled, like everyone was holding back all their emotions at once in some vain attempt to get on with life. He couldn't help but feel it was like a dam that was going to burst and flood the valley. The kind you heard about on national news that destroyed entire cities.

As for Gabriel, he was the one put in charge of arrangements. Turns out, Lucifer wasn't one to plan for an early death. A room had to be paid for, coffin ordered, burial site prepared, sermon and speakers needed to be chosen. He spent the next days running himself ragged, and it didn't help that he wasn't sleeping.

When the day arrived, Sam was almost relieved to be there. Lucifer had, apparently, had a thing for red. The flowers were red, the silk lining of the mahogany coffin was red, the tie was red. His suit was white. Somehow it seemed like the red was blood on a pure canvas.

Michael said a few words, Raphael followed. Gabriel did as well, somehow managing to make the phrase "great big bag of dicks" a term of endearment.

Lucifer hadn't been close with the majority of his family. To the kids, he was someone they saw on holidays and maybe a birthday. Four times a year, maybe twelve hours total. But still, he was always there. Only siblings attended the burial.

The ride back was silent. Jon, Caleb, and Hel had grouped in the den and switched on the television; Sam had joined them. None of them wanted to be alone. The fear of losing someone else close to you, no matter how unreasonable, had followed them into the house.

Gabriel arrived and slipped in, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

Later that night, when he woke up screaming and terrified, believing he was dying in his brother's place, Gabriel finally allowed himself to cry.


	6. Avengers Assemble!

Sam wasn't entirely sure why he was surprised when Jon made pancakes dressed like Thor, but he was surprised. Jon had inherited Gabriel's hair color and he preferred to keep in on the long side, normally tying it back. Today, it'd been left loose and he was wearing armor. Freakin' armor.

"Jon?"

"This is how the people of Asgard dress," he explained, smiling widely.

The Caleb walked in with his dark hair slicked back and a green bed sheet safety pinned to his own armor. Loki.

Five minutes later, Hel stumbled in, took one look at each of her siblings, rushed back to her room, and returned with an Iron Man mask.

"I smell pancakes."

Gabriel had arrived, bow and arrow strapped to his back.

"Does this mean Sam is Black Widow?"

He was pretty sure Hel said that.

He scoffed.

"Captain America?"

"Dean looks more like Steve," Caleb stated.

"Hulk?"

Sam thought about it then shrugged. Hulk was cool. Hel wasted no time in pushing a pair of reading glasses on his face.

Gabriel slipped into the chair next to him after claiming the syrup.

"You're definitely Natasha."

Sam huffed.


	7. Sharknado

Gabriel was having trouble sleeping. Of course, his brother has died and, even though they hadn't exactly been close in recent years, the Garrison children had grown up in a large house, raised by nannies that rarely lasted more than a few months. They'd counted themselves lucky to see their parents once a month. The only guaranteed appearance, however, was at Christmas.

So they had learned to stick together and relied on themselves. Lucifer had always been something of a golden child, but he'd had a devilish temper. And why their parents had decided to name their second child after Heaven's most infamous angel, Gabriel had no idea. He didn't blame him for choosing to go by "Luke" as soon as he understood the implications.

Having lost Luke left Gabriel feeling like a piece of his soul had gone with him. And, as people are wont to do, he filled the void with entertainment. Sam had grown used to waking up in the middle of the night to the television lighting up the room, volume barely above mute.

The problem with late-night TV was that it usually fell into one of two categories. Either it was reruns of a once-loved sitcom or it was deemed "too weird" to play during the daytime when just anyone could watch it.

The particular made-for-TV movie consisted of sharks and a tornado.

Gabriel had rolled onto his side for easy viewing. Sam scooted close, spooned up behind, and wrapped an arm around his middle.

"I woke you?"

Sam made a noise in agreement. Squeezing him to signify that he really didn't mind, as waking up to weird television was better than waking up to a nightmare-induced-sobbing Gabriel. Worlds better.

"What ya watchin'?"

"Sharknado."

"Aptly named."

"Creatively too."

The curtains were pulled tight, normally leaving the room in darkness. Even with the artificial light, the atmosphere was dark, leaving little room for conversation. When he finally managed to return to sleep, Sam switched the movie off and pulled the comforter and sheets around them.

This was a good position, never mind the numbness he felt in his side in the morning.

He didn't mind dealing with that either.


End file.
